


Golf

by flaming_muse



Category: Sports Night
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have given up golf,” Dan announced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golf

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted in my LJ on August 18, 2010

“I have given up golf,” Dan announced.

“What?” Natalie asked, looking up from her clipboard.

“I have given up golf.” He looked around the conference room, where the crew was assembled for the first rundown of the day. Notably missing was Casey, which is why Dan was still talking instead of being glared at by Dana for interrupting the meeting. “So whoever gets me for the holiday gift swap, do not buy me a golf calendar, a golf hat, golf clubs, a coffee mug with a golf theme, a subscription to a golfing magazine, or indeed anything golf-related.”

“Dan, the limit for the holiday gift swap is twenty-five dollars,” Natalie said.

“So? “

“You can’t buy golf clubs for twenty-five dollars.”

“Maybe they were on sale.”

“Or from a yard sale,” Kim said.

“Who would put golf clubs out at a yard sale for twenty-five dollars?” Jeremy asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dan said loftily, “because I do not want them. I do not want them, for I have given up golf.”

“I didn’t know you played golf,” Elliott said.

“I don’t. I have given it up.”

“No, before,” Natalie said.

“Before what?” Dan asked.

“I didn’t know you played golf before you gave it up.”

“Neither did I,” Elliott said.

“I didn’t. Not seriously,” Dan said with a shrug. “Not enough to have special golf pants, for example.”

“Why are they always plaid?” Kim asked.

“Or lime green?” Natalie added.

“Or lime green plaid.”

“Lime green plaid _knee-breeches_.”

Not looking up from her notes, Dana said, “And we’d all like to welcome Natalie back from her trip to the eighteenth century.”

“That’s what they are!” Natalie told her. “Knee-breeches.”

“I thought they were culottes,” Elliott said.

“Culottes are for women,” Kim replied. “They’re pants that look like a skirt.”

“Really?” Elliott scratched his head with his pen.

“Yep,” Natalie said, “and knee-breeches are for men.”

“Aren’t they called knickerbockers?” said Chris.

Natalie touched her nose and then pointed at him. “Knickerbockers. Plaid knickerbockers.”

“Seriously, who thought knickerbockers were a good idea?” Kim asked.

Isaac opened the door and glanced around the room. “Casey still isn’t here?”

“No,” Dana replied.

“I mean, the plaid is bad enough, but _knickerbockers_?” Natalie said, shaking her head.

Isaac raised one eyebrow. “What are they talking about?”

“Knickerbockers,” Jeremy, Dan, and Dana said in unison.

“I don’t know why I asked,” Isaac said and stepped back out into the hallway. “Call me when Casey gets here.”

“Okay,” Dana said.

“ And what’s up with the argyle socks?” Kim asked.

“I have _never_ gotten argyle socks,” Natalie agreed.

“I can’t believe this is the more sane topic of conversation,” Jeremy said as he leaned forward around her and addressed Dan, “but if you don’t play golf, how can you have given it up?”

“By declaring it.” Dan stood up. “I have given up golf,” he announced again. He looked around to make sure everyone heard him before returning to his seat. “See?”

“How can you give up something you don’t actually do?” Natalie asked, abandoning knickerbockers at least for the moment.

“It’s pre-emptive. I have pre-emptively given up golf,” Dan said.

Everyone stared at him.

“Let me voice the question at the forefront of all of our minds, or at least for those minds that aren’t currently fixated on abbreviated articles of men’s clothing,” Jeremy said. “Why?”

Dan picked up his coffee and took a sip. “That’s a long story,” he said with a dismissive shrug. “So what did you guys do after the show last night?”

A collective groan filled the room.

“Danny, you cannot make a pronouncement like that – a pre-emptive pronouncement, even – and then just drop it,” Natalie told him.

“Why not?” Dan asked.

“There’s a rule.”

“There’s a rule about pre-emptive pronouncements?” Jeremy asked.

“There is now,” she said with a glare.

“Right.” Jeremy sat back meekly in his chair.

“So this rule, which you have unquestionably broken,” she said to Dan, “states that when one makes a pre-emptive pronouncement one is required to explain one’s self.”

“I have a question first,” Dan said. “Can we stop covering golf on the show?”

“No,” said Dana.

“What if _I_ just don’t do the golf pieces?”

“No,” she said again.

Dan shrugged. “Sorry, Natalie, no golf moratorium, no story.”

“Dana!” Natalie cried.

“Sorry I’m late,” Casey said, coming in and slumping into his seat next to Dan. “Traffic was horrible. It was worse than horrible. I think I saw King Kong out there heading for the subway.”

“Thank god,” Dana said. She picked up the phone and dialed. “Isaac, Casey’s here. Please hurry before they start up on knickerbockers again.”

“The short pants or the sports team?” Casey asked.

“The pants,” Jeremy said.

“Yeah, what’s up with those?” Casey asked, and Dana groaned and put her head down on the table.

“Dan has given up golf,” was Natalie’s reply.

“What?”

Casey frowned, Natalie fixed Dan with a glare that promised a great deal of pain if he didn’t explain himself to her later, Dana thumped her forehead against the table, and Isaac walked in and brought the meeting to order.

*

“So spill the beans. Why have you given up golf?” Natalie asked as she walked into Dan’s office.

“Hello, Natalie,” Dan said slowly, turning his chair so that she could see the phone he was holding up to his ear.

“You cannot keep a secret from me, Danny.” She crossed her arms as she faced him.

“I’m on the phone with Ted Whitman’s office.”

“You can _try_ to keep a secret from me, but it will not work. Do you know why?”

“Natalie, I’ve been trying to get a phone call with Coach Whitman for weeks now.”

“It will not work because a) – “ She held up a finger and waved it to emphasize her points. “ – I will ferret it out of you eventually, and b) I will make your life a living hell until I do.”

“You know, Coach Ted Whitman, the guy who has brought his team to victory a record-breaking number of times and who never, ever gives interviews? I’m on the phone with his office right now. I’m on hold right now waiting to _talk_ to him.”

“You can’t wriggle your way out of this one, Dan!”

“Natalie – “ He broke off and smiled his fake sportscaster smile as he turned away. “Coach Whitman! Thank you for taking my call. That was a great game last night.”

“I’m not through with you,” Natalie said, spinning on her heel and leaving the office.

*

“What if you were offered a free trip to Pebble Beach?” Dave was asking as Dana walked past a little group gathered around Jeremy’s desk later in the afternoon. She had expected to find them discussing work, though upon reflection she really should have known better.

“I’d take it,” Dan said from his perch on the edge of the desk.

“But – “

“Have you _seen_ Pebble Beach? It’s spectacular. The views, the amenities.”

“The shopping,” Kim added.

Dan shrugged. “I’d go there in a heartbeat. I just wouldn’t play golf.”

“You wouldn’t play golf,” said Jeremy, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“At Pebble Beach,” Chris added.

“Right,” Dan said.

“You wouldn’t play golf at Pebble Beach,” Jeremy said.

Dan nodded. “I would not and will not play golf at Pebble Beach.”

“For you have given up golf,” Jeremy said slowly.

“For _I_ have _given up_ golf,” Dan agreed. “I do not golf. I am not golfing. I will not golf.”

“Even at Pebble Beach,” Chris said, shaking his head.

“You know what else he’s not doing?” Dana asked. The group spun to face her, and Dan welcomed her with a lazy smile she knew far too well to believe. “Working.”

“Hey, I got us an interview with Ted Whitman,” Dan said. “So I think that counts as all of my work for the week.”

“No. Your work for the week counts for your work for the week. You know, little things like _going on the air_ and _having a script_ beforehand. And there’s probably a reason the rest of you get paid here, too, now that I think of it.”

Dan just grinned at her and stood up from Jeremy’s desk. “Your wish is our command.”

“If only it were that easy,” Dana said, watching the group amiably disperse before heading back to her office. She had to make sure the network was going to plug the heck out of the Whitman interview. “I need a magic wand.”

*

“Natalie’s gunning for you,” Elliott told Casey as they passed in the hallway.

“What? Why?” Casey asked, looking around for her as Elliott kept on going.

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to stay close enough to you to find out.”

*

Natalie walked into the editing room and smacked Casey on the head. “You’re an idiot.”

“And hello to you, too,” he said, rubbing his head.

“You don’t deserve a hello. You deserve a smack upside the head.”

Casey rolled his chair back a few inches. “One was plenty, thank you.”

“Only I get to decide how many smacks are enough,” she told him.

“Do you two need me to leave and go edit this footage in the _hallway_ to give you your privacy?” Jeremy asked pointedly from his spot at the editing desk.

“Don’t go,” Casey said.

“No, sweetie, you’re fine,” Natalie replied.

“Oh, yes, just fine, not bothered at all,” Jeremy muttered, turning back to his work.

“And you’re an idiot,” she said to Casey.

“If I ask why, are you going to hit me again?” Casey asked with a nervous lift of his eyebrows.

Natalie tilted her head and thought for a moment. “No.”

“Okay, then why am I an idiot?”

“Because Dan has given up golf,” she said, like that explained everything.

“Yeah, that’s weird,” Casey said.

“He’s given up golf, Casey. Golf!”

Casey frowned at her. “But he doesn’t play golf.”

“Not anymore!” she cried.

With a sigh he said, “Okay, he’s given up golf. What does that have to do with me?”

“Oh, Casey. Casey, Casey, Casey.” She shook her head at him. “You’re such an idiot.”

“We’ve established that,” Jeremy said, not turning around.

“What did you do last night, Casey?” she asked.

“Dan and I had that thing, and then we hung out at his place for a while before I took a cab home, back when the streets of New York were still passable for vehicles larger than a unicycle. Why?”

“And what did you talk about at his place?”

“I don’t know. The same things we usually talk about. Stuff.”

“Like?”

“Just stuff!” he said. “I don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember? The man who can recite baseball statistics from 1972 in his sleep?”

“I don’t remember. I was kind of buzzed.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Exactly!”

Casey frowned at her. “I get buzzed all the time. Well, not _all_ the time, but it happens. What’s the problem?”

“Dan wasn’t buzzed.”

“Okay.”

“Dan wasn’t buzzed, but you were, so you don’t remember what you talked about, but he does. Q.E.D.”

“What?”

“Q.E.D. _Quod erat demonstrandum_. ”

“At least she didn’t say ‘Quite Easily Done’,” Jeremy said to himself.

“I know what Q.E.D. stands for,” Casey snapped. “What did we _talk about_ that I don’t remember but he does?”

Natalie shrugged, suddenly deflated, and collapsed onto a chair. “I don’t know. Dan won’t tell me. It has taken all of my incredible powers of persuasion to get that much out of him. ”

Casey rolled his eyes. “Jeremy, do you mind if I throttle your girlfriend?”

“Be my guest, as long as you do it quietly or someplace that isn’t here,” Jeremy replied, still frowning at the editing deck. “Or both.”

“Hey!” Natalie crossed her arms over her chest again. “I can’t help it if you said something stupid last night that made Danny give up golf.”

“I said something stupid that made Dan give up golf,” Casey repeated, as if trying to make the words make sense together.

“Yes.”

“A game that he doesn’t even play.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Casey rubbed his face. “I’m pretty sure that at least one of us in this conversation is crazy.” He stood up and asked Jeremy, “You can do this on your own, right?”

“If you mean editing this piece for tonight’s show, I most assuredly would do better without you here,” Jeremy replied, taking them both in with his glance.

“Okay.” Casey headed for the door.

“When you find out, you have to tell me!” Natalie called after him.

*

“You wanted to see me, Isaac?” Dana asked in his doorway.

“What’s this?” Isaac said, holding up a piece of paper as he continued to focus on what he was writing with his other hand.

“A piece of paper?” Dana walked toward his desk and reached out for it.

“It’s a memo,” he told her. “From Natalie.”

Dana took the piece of paper and began to read it. “A memo from Natalie? Why is Natalie sending you a memo?”

“That’s exactly my question,” Isaac said.

“’In the future all golf stories will be covered by Casey and/or reporters in the field’,” she read, her eyebrows rising. “This is a memo about our golf coverage?”

“This is a memo about our golf coverage.” He looked up at her and leaned back in his chair. “Dana, why is Natalie sending me memos about our golf coverage? Why is Natalie sending _anyone_ memos about our _golf coverage_?”

“Well,” Dana said with an embarrassed smile, “Dan has given up golf, and Natalie wants to know why, so – “

Isaac cut her off with a sigh. “It’s one of those days, isn’t it.”

She nodded with a sigh of her own.

“Dana, the day-to-day running of this show is your responsibility, and I like it that way. Please stop Natalie from sending me more ridiculous memos; I get enough of them from the network.”

“I will, Isaac. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “You do a great job. Nobody in the world could keep them under control every second of every day.”

“I’m thinking of getting a magic wand,” she told him.

“You do that,” he said with a laugh as she left his office, memo in hand.

*

“Hey, great job getting the Whitman interview,” Casey said as he slid into his seat beside Dan in the studio and gave himself over to the fiddling hands of hair, makeup, and sound people fixing every last detail.

“Thanks,” Dan said, making a note on his script.

“How did you get it?” Casey asked. “He never gives interviews.”

Dan grinned at him. “My charm is irresistible.”

“But he _never_ gives interviews.”

“ _Irresistible_ , Casey.”

“Fine,” Casey said with a roll of his eyes. “Speaking of irresistible charm, what’s this about you no longer covering golf?”

“I have given up golf,” Dan said.

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Dan shrugged. “So that’s that.”

“That is _not_ that,” Casey said. “Natalie says you are not going to do any more golf stories at all. How did you manage that?”

“I asked.”

“So if I ask I can stop covering yacht-racing?”

“No,” Dana said from the doorway to the control room.

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Natalie told him through his earpiece. “Good show!”

“It’s not fair,” Casey muttered to Dan. “Did you bribe them? Did you buy Dana new shoes?”

“Nope. My charm is irresistible,” Dan said smugly.

Casey glowered at him. “It really isn’t.”

*

“Should we rescue him?” Casey asked Jeremy as they watched Natalie and Dan at a table across the bar after the show. Dan had progressed from looking smooth and unbothered to decidedly uncomfortable as she talked to him, and he was squirming in his seat the way he did when he was being forced to talk about something he really didn’t want to.

“I’m not sure we could,” Jeremy said. “She’s pretty tough.”

“Tenacious,” Casey agreed.

“Feisty.”

“Scary.”

“Scary. But she’s got her sights set on Dan; we’re safer here.”

Casey drank some more beer. “It feels wrong, leaving a friend to face that alone.”

“Sometimes you’ve got to know when to let nature take its course.”

“Or else it could be us.”

Jeremy nodded somberly and held out his beer. “Exactly. To nature.”

Casey clicked their bottles together. “To nature.”

They sat in companionable silence until Natalie finally left a shell-shocked-looking Dan to himself at his table and made her way over to the two of them.

She smacked Casey on the back of the head.

“Ow!” he said. “What was that for?”

“You know what it’s for,” she replied.

“No, I really don’t.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.”

“Hey – “

“Want a buy a girl a drink?” she asked Jeremy with a grin full of promise. “I’m feeling very kindly toward men who aren’t idiots. _Very_ kindly. Like wearing your dress shirt kindly.”

“Yes.” Jeremy said, scrambling to a his feet. “Yes, I do.”

She rolled her eyes at Casey and led Jeremy by the hand toward the bar. Casey stayed in his seat and watched Dan pull himself together a little before standing up and winding his way around the tables over to where Dan was sitting.

“Hey,” Casey said.

“Hey.” Dan glanced up at him and then took another swig of his beer.

“So,” he said, still standing awkwardly. “Everything okay with Natalie? She’s kind of…”

“Fixated?”

Casey nodded. “Fixated. On golf.”

“Yep.”

“So are you… okay?”

“You’re the one who needs a helmet when she’s around.”

“No kidding.” Casey glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Natalie was still across the room and not within arm’s reach of his head. “Still, it looked like she was giving you the third degree.”

Dan snorted. “Yeah, I saw you and Jeremy rushing over to help me.”

“Sometimes nature has to take its course.”

“And playing the part of the gazelle this evening will be Dan Rydell,” Dan said in his best announcer voice. He didn’t say anything else.

Silence stretched between them, and Casey looked over his shoulder again before drawing a breath and saying, “Look, Natalie seems to think that I’ve done something to make you give up golf, which seems impossible, and yet I am still here apologizing to you. I am sorry if I did something to make you give up golf.”

Dan shook his head once, looking down at his beer. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.”

Casey blinked. “I did something to make you give up golf?”

Dan shook his head again. “Not directly. You said something last night that got me thinking, and I decided to give up golf.”

“Because of something I said.”

“Yes.”

“You gave up golf because of something I said.”

“Yes.”

Casey looked at him for a moment. “What the hell could I have said to make you give up golf? You don’t even _play_ golf!”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Dan.”

Dan grimaced but said, “You said something about when we’re older escaping from our wives on the weekends to play golf together.”

“And that made you give up golf.”

“Yes.”

“That made you give up golf, the thought of playing with me on the weekends.”

“Yes.”

Casey sat down with a thump. “We don’t have to play golf. We can play, I don’t know, what sports do older men play?”

“Horseshoes?” Dan suggested to the tabletop.

“Fine, sure, we can play horseshoes on the weekends to escape from our wives. Okay?”

Frowning like he was trying to hold something back, Dan shook his head. “Just drop it, Casey.”

“You don’t want to play horseshoes with me, either?” Casey asked, hurt. “Or are you saying you don’t want to do anything with me when we’re older?”

“I am not saying that at all,” Dan told him steadily. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll play golf. I’m sure I’ll get over it between now and then. I’ll take it up again. It will be my golf renaissance. Troubadours will write poetry about it. There could even be a statue.”

“Okay,” Casey said slowly.

“And on that note I’m heading home. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Casey said after him, more confused than ever.

*

“You are dense,” Natalie said sometime later with the authority of someone well on her way to being intoxicated.

“Okay,” Casey said.

“You are dense.”

“Okay.”

“You are really dense.”

“Okay.”

“You are dense like… like something that is very dense that escapes me right now,” Natalie said.

“The matzo balls at Jerry’s deli?” Jeremy supplied.

Natalie nodded. “You are dense like the matzo balls at Jerry’s deli.”

“Okay,” Casey said.

“ _You_ are _dense_ like the _matzo balls_ at Jerry’s deli.”

“Okay.”

“No, really, you are – “

Casey set his now empty glass down heavily. “Natalie, I get it. I’m dense. And you’re drunk. I just don’t know what I’m dense about.”

“This isn’t about golf,” Natalie said.

“Okay,” Jeremy said slowly. “And now there are only a _nearly_ infinite number of other things Casey could be dense about.”

“No. No. _This_ \- “ Natalie gestured vaguely and unhelpfully. “ – is not about _golf_.”

“Natalie – “

“Dan didn’t give up golf because of golf. Dan didn’t give up golf because he hates golf.”

“Okay,” Casey said.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked, leaning toward him.

“Yes, Natalie.”

“Really listening?”

“Yes. I don’t understand you, but I’m listening.”

“Good. Then the ball is in your court,” she said and turned to Jeremy with a sultry smile. “And there’s a dress shirt in your closet with my name on it.”

Jeremy’s eyes went wide. “Good night, Casey,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the door.

“I’m not sure if I should be drinking more or less to make this evening make sense,” Casey muttered to himself.

*

Dana came into her office the next morning, set her bag on her desk, turned around, and clutched her coat to her chest with a shriek when she discovered Casey standing behind her door.

“Casey! What are you doing?” she asked.

“Admiring the fine quality of the paint on your walls?” he replied in a low voice. “And could you talk more quietly, please?”

She laid her coat over the chair next to her with a sigh. “You’re hiding from Natalie.”

“I’m not hiding from Natalie.” The adamant tone of his voice was overshadowed by the nervous way he glanced at the open doorway.

Dana crossed her arms.

“I’m… hiding from Natalie,” he agreed with a sigh.

“Because you are an idiot, or so I’ve been told.”

“Hey!”

“I have to trust Natalie’s opinions on these things, Casey. She is my right-hand woman.”

“Yeah, I’ve met _her_ right hand.” He peered out into the hallway.

“She’s not out there. I just saw her sitting on Jeremy’s desk.”

Casey slumped back against the wall. “Oh, good.”

Picking up her phone, Dana dialed a short number. “Jeremy?” she said when the call connected. “Would you please tell Natalie that Casey is in my office?”

“You are an evil woman,” Casey told her as she smugly put the phone back in its cradle. He fled without further comment.

“Imagine what I could do if I had that magic wand,” Dana said to herself and went to hang up her coat.

*

“You can’t hide from me, Casey McCall!” Natalie cried as she slammed open the door to the men’s room.

*

Humming to himself, Dan walked into his office and put his cup of coffee down on the desk. He paused and turned with a frown. “Good morning, Casey.”

Casey’s reply was a groan. He was lying full-length on the floor in front of the couch, one arm draped over his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Having an aneurism.”

“It looks more like you’re having a nap.”

“That would only be a _temporary_ escape.”

Rolling his eyes, Dan pulled one of the chairs over next to Casey and sat down. “What’s going on?”

“You’re my best friend, right?

“Sure,” Dan replied.

“They say friends will do anything for each other.”

“Okay,” Dan replied more slowly.

“So I’m going to ask you a favor.”

“Okay.”

“If Natalie comes in here – _when_ she comes in here – would you please pick up a sharp object and plunge it into my chest?”

Dan frowned down at him. “I’m going to have to go with a no on that one.”

Casey sighed and nodded. “And that’s why you’re my best friend. You don’t want to murder me.”

“Usually.”

“Usually,” Casey agreed.

“And before you ask, I’m not going to murder Natalie, either.”

“I know.” He turned his head and peered out from beneath his arm. “Can you do anything to _make_ yourself have an aneurism.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Dan stood up, grabbed Casey’s hand, and hauled him up to slump mostly upright on the couch. He sat back on his own chair and leaned forward. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know. And apparently that’s the problem.”

Dan sighed. “Is this about golf?”

“Yes. Or not about golf. I can’t keep it straight, though that could be the head injury.”

“You don’t have a head injury.”

“Right about now I’m wishing I did.” Casey flinched at a noise from the bullpen. “Was that Natalie?”

“No. That was the fax machine.” Dan took a deep breath. “Okay, what do I have to do to make her stop hitting you?”

“Besides the sharp object in my chest?”

“Yes.”

“Just… tell me what’s going on with the golf thing. Enough that she’ll think I get it. And then we can never said the word ‘golf’ again.”

Dan’s fingers fidgeted on the arm of his chair before he appeared to make a decision and said, “So I gave up golf.”

“Do you hate golf?”

“No,” Dan replied. “I never said I did.”

Casey made a triumphant gesture. “Aha!”

“Aha?”

“I don’t know,” Casey admitted. “It seemed like the thing to say.”

“Okay.”

“Natalie says you didn’t give up golf because you don’t want to play _golf_ with me. You don’t want to play golf with _me_.”

Dan was very still in his chair. “Okay.”

“Did you see what I did there with the difference in emphasis?”

“Yes, Casey, I did.”

“And what do you think?

“About your use of emphasis? It was masterful.”

“ _Dan_.”

“It’s not – “ Dan grimaced. “Maybe I _will_ murder Natalie after all.”

“You won’t get any argument from me.”

Dan sighed and looked out the window at the New York skyline. “It’s not about golf, Casey. It’s about us. I don’t want to be the guy you see on the weekends when you want to get away from your wife.”

“I’d see you other times, too,” Casey assured him.

“Yeah.” Dan met his eyes again. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“I don’t understand. I hung out with you when I was married to Lisa.”

“I know.”

“And?”

“Casey, I don’t want to be your escape. I _will_ be your escape, and we will have fun, and we will play golf, but that’s not what I want. Okay?”

“Because of Lisa?

“Because of you,” Dan said tiredly.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. It’s probably better that way.”

“Dan – “

“I’ll tell Natalie to leave you alone.”

Casey grabbed Dan’s arm as he began to rise. They stared at each other for a long moment, the seconds ticking by.

“This isn’t about golf,” Casey finally said like it was a revelation.

“It isn’t about golf.”

“It’s about me.”

“It’s about you,” Dan told him softly.

“I didn’t know.”

“I know, Casey.”

Casey pulled on Dan’s arm, tugging him closer. “But I do now.”

*

“Dan told him?” Jeremy asked Natalie in a whisper from their viewing spot across the still quiet bullpen.

“Dan told him.”

“What’s Casey going to do? Oh!”

Natalie smiled benevolently at the embracing men. “Finally. He’s not an idiot after all.”


End file.
